


it blooms on my tongue (it ripens my mouth)

by lakeboys



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Crimson Flower Route, F/F, background Edeleth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:48:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26959825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lakeboys/pseuds/lakeboys
Summary: “There was a flower that Bernadetta had much interest in. She was wanting to bring it back with us but the professor did not think it would last the journey.”“It would not have mattered if it had.” Petra admitted tonelessly. “Nothing from Brigid blooms in Fódlan.”---Upon her return from Brigid, Petra and Dorothea talk about flowers and language.
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Petra Macneary
Comments: 1
Kudos: 33





	it blooms on my tongue (it ripens my mouth)

“Unless there is any other business here then this will conclude our meeting.”

Dorothea let out a small sigh of relief. While she didn’t relish being on the frontlines by any means, these lengthy war council meetings were their own kind of battlefield. 

“One last thing, Lady Edelgard. We’ve had word that Petra and her party have returned from their mission in Brigid. She and the professor will no doubt have a full report to deliver on the mission’s finer details.”

Dorothea perked up at the mention of Petra. She had left with the professor and Bernie two weeks ago so that she could speak with her grandfather about Brigid giving the Empire extra support. Dorothea had wanted to join them but the professor asked that she remain at Garreg Mach. 

“We will be seeing Brigid together soon enough, as promised.” Petra had assured her. 

She believed her, of course. Dorothea had already started to picture their time together traveling through Brigid after the war. That itself was a big step for Dorothea, being able to imagine an _after_. She believed in the future they were fighting for, she wouldn’t have stayed by Edelgard all this time otherwise, but the seemingly endless battles, the blood spilt, it was no secret that it wore on her greatly. 

But a combination of the professors' return and Petra’s excited invitation in the quiet of the library had focused Dorothea’s gaze on her future again. She’d go where she was needed, stay when it was called for, whatever helped bring the war to a close and open the next chapter of her’s and Petra’s journey. 

“Thank you, Hubert. That is good news indeed. If that is all then this meeting is adjourned, thank you for your time everyone.” 

Caspar was the first to jump from his chair at Edelgard’s dismissal, pulling a groggy looking Linhardt with him towards the door. As the room began to empty out Dorothea made her way over to Edelgard who was still organising some of her notes. 

“Come along, Edie! Our dashing heroes deserve to see some welcoming faces after such a hard trek.”

“I’m sure the professor is quite tired from her journey. She can make her report in due time.”

“Oh? So the professor is your first thought when it comes to a _Dashing Hero_? Interesting!” 

“That wasn’t-!” Edelgard bristled, cheeks flushing to match her crimson armour. It was honestly nice to see that under all the Emperor’s layers she was still capable of being a young woman with her heart so thoroughly captured by another.

Still, Dorothea knew if she kept teasing Edelgard then she’d likely hole up in the meeting room going over reports out of pure stubbornness, and that simply wouldn’t do.

“Now, now, you’ll at least come walk with me, won’t you? We’ve been trapped in this room for hours and I for one intend to see the sun at least once before it sets for the day.”

“Very well," Edelgard conceded.

Linking arms as they moved out of the room Dorothea cheerfully added “and if we just so happen to pass the stables where our dear friends are, then that shall just be the silver lining!”

\---

“Dorothea!” Petra called out upon seeing them enter the stable’s courtyard. 

Unlinking her arm from Edelgard’s, Dorothea moved to meet Petra’s embrace halfway. 

“Professor, Petra, Bernadetta. I’m glad to see you’ve all returned safely. I’ve heard your mission was a success. On behalf of the Empire I thank you for all your contribution.” Edelgard addressed them as Petra stepped out of Dorothea’s embrace.

“There are no thanks needed, Lady Edelgard. Brigid is ready to support the Empire’s cause.” 

Dorothea could feel the atmosphere of the war room lingering around them and that certainly wouldn’t do.

“Alright, alright! Enough of that now. You’ll have plenty of time to talk politics after supper and, to be frank, a much needed bath. As eager as we all are to hear tales of your exploits, you all smell like horse.” 

Byleth gave the sleeve of her overcoat a quick sniff before frowning, though Dorothea was unsure if she was upset at the smell or upset she hadn’t noticed it. Much of their ex-professor’s expressions remained a mystery to her. 

Petra merely smiled apologetically. “We rode hard this week. The professor was wanting to be back with much haste.” 

“Missing us so soon, Professor?” 

She shrugged. “Bernadetta is only so effective after being outside for extended periods.”

“Hey! I’m- no actually, you’re right. That’s fair...” 

“Oh harsh, Professor! Here we are worrying about you while you’re gone and we don’t even get a passing thought? Not even our glorious emperor?”

“Edelgard is always in my thoughts,” Byleth replied in her typically toneless manner. For someone who once told Dorothea she didn’t have a heart that beats, their former professor had little issues with wearing hers so openly on her sleeves. Still, the honesty of the comment momentarily stunned the group into silence. 

Bernadetta was the first to crack.

“I think I’ll go back to my room now.”

Edelgard cleared her throat, cheeks dusted pink. “Professor, why don’t we see about getting your overcoat washed.” Byleth simply nodded and the two left together. 

Dorothea watched them go before letting out a long suffering sign. “I do so hope they will find time to stop dancing around each other when this is all over.”

“Do you not prefer the dancing though?” Petra asked with a tilt of her head.

“It all depends on the partner, my dear. And right now, mine smells of horse.”

\--

“Bernadetta made many fine sketches of the plants in Brigid. I think even the Spirits would be liking them!”

Fresh from the baths and stomachs full from a hearty serving in the dinner hall, the pair sat by the dock at the fishing pond watching as the sun slowly sank below the horizon. 

“Oh I can’t wait to see them, although we should probably give her some space after being away from her room for so long.”

“She is like a rabbit returning to her burrow.”

“I think she’d prefer to be a bear in hibernation but a skittish rabbit does suit her better. It’s cuter at the very least.” 

Petra chuckled as she reached behind to grab a satchel she’d brought with her. 

“Until Bernadetta is returning to us I can show you something of my own from Brigid, if it is pleasing you.”

“Nothing would please me more! What is it? A book?”

“Yes. Grandfather gave it to me before we made our return. It was a favourite of mine as a child before I came to Fódlan.” 

In their academy days phrases like “before I came to Fódlan'' had been what first got Dorothea really talking with Petra. She worried the girl would be homesick and wanted to ease any discomfort she might have settling into school life. Looking back, it was probably no small part of projection on her part but Petra waved her off, ever the image of reliability. It had made it easy to forget sometimes that she was the youngest of their group before Lysithea transferred, and even then there were only a few months between them. 

Fearing that any more lingering thoughts about their academy days might sour her mood, Dorothea planted herself back in the present and watched as Petra opened the well read book. Paging through it showed what looked to be short stories that each had accompanying illustrations. 

“Any stories about dashing princesses that sweep beautiful songstresses off their feet?”

“I’m afraid there is no such story.”

“None that’s written at least.” 

Petra looked somewhat bashful but gave a bright smile nonetheless. 

“Ah! I had forgotten this.”

Near the middle of the book a type of purple flower Dorothea had never seen before was pressed between the pages. 

“Flower pressing? How cute! Oh this reminds me of a girl from Mittelfrank who used to press flowers and clovers between her scripts for good luck. I don’t think it ever did her any good though, poor thing even fell into the orchestra pit once.”

She expected a laugh or some kind of follow up question from Petra but instead the young woman remained quiet, fixated upon the flower held up between her calloused fingers..

“Petra?”

Placing the flower back between the pages, Petra closed the book and looked down at its cover. 

“There was a flower that Bernadetta had much interest in. She was wanting to bring it back with us but the professor did not think it would last the journey.” 

“It would not have mattered if it had.” Petra admitted tonelessly. “Nothing from Brigid blooms in Fódlan.” 

Dorothea was caught off guard by the admission. She had thought that Petra’s visit to her grandfather would brighten her spirits for despite her claims of not being homesick, Petra made no effect to hide parts of her home and culture that she missed or thought about often. She felt guilty now for being so happy about their early return. But now wasn’t the time to dwell, she was needed here in the present so that’s where she was staying. 

Reaching over, Dorothea brought her hand to rest on top of Petra’s. “Y’know, I used to think of myself a rose when I was younger. Beauty and vibrant but still holding plenty of thorns. But over the past five years I felt that beauty whither till only the thorns remained.”

Petra made a face that suggested she was about to argue the point but Dorothea pressed on. 

“But I’ve never seen you like that Petra. You’ve never been a flower that needed the right circumstances to bloom. You’ve blossomed into the amazing woman you are now in spite of your circumstances.”

“Dorothea.” The melancholy shifted from Petra's voice and her eyes shone with affection, “your words fill me with such- such-” she fumbled for a moment before letting out a frustrated sigh. It was a rare sight, honestly. Normally Petra corrected any stumbles in her speech with a nod and promptly moved on. 

“Gratitude?” 

“No, I mean, yes- of course gratitude. My apologies, Dorothea. The word evades my tongue. Perhaps the journey has tired me more than I thought, I cannot even think the word in Brigid.”

Sensing there was more to come, Dorothea lay a hand over Petra’s, trying to encourage her to continue. 

“I still have my struggles with the language of Fódlan but sometimes I have great fear of forgetting my own.”

“Forgetting it?”

“Yes. I worry that the more I learn of Fódlan’s tongue, the further my own is from me.” Petra stared down at their hands. 

“Petra…”

“There is much I must do for Brigid’s future to be a bright one. Edelgard is cutting a new path for Fódlan’s future. If I am having to cut my own tongue out to be giving Brigid a voice then,” she paused to look into a horizon bathed in dusk's crimson glow “may the Spirits keep steady my hands.” 

Whatever look that clouded Petra eyes before had been replaced with the fierce determination Dorothea has grown accustomed to seeing, be it in the classroom or the battlefield. Dorothea was sure it would become known across all Brigid soon enough. 

“Apologies, Dorothea. I do not mean to burden you with such matters.”

Dorothea knew that this war had burdened them all in different ways and she was fully aware that some had adapted to it better than others. She isn’t built for war. She can’t compartmentalize it. Had it not been for Petra and her fellow Black Eagles then Dorothea imagines she would have lost herself into despair long ago. A burden shared is a burden halved as they say, and Petra had been shouldering hers long before she offered that shoulder for crying on. 

“Anything that matters to you matters to me as well, dear. I want to hear you speak on everything, not just the things you think I want to hear.”

“Then thank you for hearing me.” 

Taking the children’s book back from Petra’s lap Dorothea began flipping through the pages again. 

“I’ve actually been thinking, Petra. If we’re still planning on visiting Brigid after the war-”

“We are!”

“-then it would make sense for me to know the language, right? Not that you’d have to be the one teaching, I know you’ve already got plenty of responsibilities right now and I’m sure the professor could arrange-”

She was cut off by Petra placing both hands on the sides of her face so she can pull her into a kiss. 

“Oui yna y synjamuic fusyh fruca payido ec uhmo sad po dra pnemmeyhla uv ouin raynd.”

Dorothea giggled, kissing the palm of the hand still holding her face “I see you found your words.”

“E vuiht oui.” Petra smiled back at her, bringing their foreheads together before repeating “I found you.”

“We found each other,” Dorothea said and, smiling, kissed her again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks as always to explosionshark for looking over this and listening to my endless thoughts on fire emeblem, ladies, and the ladies in fire emblem. 
> 
> And shout out to any FFX fans who looked at what Petra was saying with vague recollection. E muja oui!


End file.
